


Insufferable

by Android 34 (VivianStark)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Intimidation, primal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 14:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14620143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivianStark/pseuds/Android%2034
Summary: Occurs during the "infamous 3 year period" in which Trunks was conceived.AU (perhaps)





	Insufferable

It had been just 3 days since Vegeta destroyed the gravity chamber.  
  
Bulma continued welding; piecing together what their barbaric house guest leveled. She knew this would happen. It was bound to.  
She had even warned her father, wincing as the ground shook during every one of the Saiyan's intense training sessions. And now the room was left in shambles; a result of Vegeta's energy blasts. Aggravated, she remembered the way Vegeta stood there among the remains, barking at them as if it were their fault he shattered the chamber to fragments.  
Bulma shook her head at his audacity. Never in all her life had she encountered such an ornery individual. Each morning his impatience grew, he made it known as she and her father alternated shifts in repairing it.

Bulma wiped her brow as she walked into the sitting area, finding Vegeta with arms folded in his usual stance.

"What's taking so long?"

"Would it kill you to exercise a little patience? You still have 3 years before those Androids are even supposed to _be_ here."

"Each day without training is a wasted opportunity in surpassing Kakarot."

"Well, if you wouldn't have _broken_ it, you wouldn't _be_ in this position, now would you?"

"Maybe it wouldn't have been so easily demolished had your father been as competent a genius as you claim."

"Oh, REALLY, Vegeta!? You think you're so smart? Well, why don't you just fix it yourself!"

"I'm busy training to save your pathetic excuse for a planet. You should be thanking me."

"Get over yourself!"

"Stop your yapping!"

"Don't tell ME what to do, asshole!"

"Idiotic woman!"

_____________________________________________

Bulma was under no illusions that she was without her flaws. She understood herself to be difficult at times.  
  
_'Well, there's a big difference between having a sassy attitude and being just plain rude',_ she justified.  
  
Ever since the beginning of Vegeta's stay, Bulma constantly had their rocky dynamic on her mind. The resentment she bore against him caused much tension. A fire smoldered within her, and it burned brighter after each encounter.

The following evening proved to be just as frustrating, as she felt herself already on edge over the breakup with Yamcha. The events over the past week plagued her to the point where she could barely concentrate on the task at hand. Fingers fumbled clumsily with attempts to adjust metal hinges. Mutters of agitation spilled from her lips as she mentally rehearsed insults for the arrogant prince. It was an unfair situation as far as she was concerned. Bulma was used to having the upper hand. Tolerating this Saiyan with his nasty disposition was beginning to wear her wits thin.  
  
_And, why does he have to be good-looking?_ , she thought bitterly. _It only makes it worse._

"Hi, sweetie! Would you like some cakes?"

Bulma sat back for a moment, placing her tools down to acknowledge her mother.  
"Mm, no thanks, mom. I'm just not hungry right now."

"What's the matter, dear? Something on your mind?"

"Ugh." Bulma sighed, slamming the tool drawer shut. "I just want to get this damned chamber up and running, so I won't have to deal with the prince of all assholes."

"Oh, you mean Vegeta? Isn't his strength impressive? I think it's incredibly brave of him, working so hard to save the planet. What a hero!"

Bulma couldn't help the feeling of what only could be described as an inner eye-roll.

"If you say so, mother."

_____________________________________________

Mr. Briefs arrived just an hour after that to continue assembling the chamber. Relieved of her duties, Bulma yawned, strolling into the house en route toward her bedroom. Her passage down the hallway was interrupted by sounds of heavy breathing. Quietly, she peeked around the corner to peer into the sitting room.

Unsurprisingly, Vegeta was engaged in one of his marathons of single-armed push ups.  
_Smug jackass._  
The Capsule Corps heiress clenched her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms; trying to will away the perpetuating ache that tormented her sex.  
Vegeta was built like a god. _Damn him._  
  
She found it impossible not to ogle his body, nor could she deny the fact that he was roguishly attractive.  
Taking a step back, she hid herself from view so she could better observe the shirtless warrior. It was astonishing to her how lean Saiyans were built despite their insatiable appetite.

Curious eyes continued watching as Bulma became transfixed to his motions, watching his back muscles contract as he heaved toward the floor and back up again. Filthy thoughts crept into her mind, nearly envying the very floor he pushed against. Such a sight arrested her, mesmerized in such effortless action. Movements highlighting the distinction of each and every muscular curve - trapezius... deltoid... triceps... latissimus dorsi...

Vegeta abruptly stopped mid-pushup. His glare cutting straight through her; dirty grin in tow.

"Are you going to continue gawking all night?"

Jolted into sobriety, her face flushed pink as she swallowed hard in embarrassment.  
"Yeah! Sure!" She scoffed. "I was just noticing how badly you needed a shower."

"Yeah, _sure_." Vegeta amusedly mocked as he returned to exercising.

Storming into her room, Bulma slammed the door as she collapsed into the comfort of her bed.  
"Pompous _jerk_!" She cursed, gazing furiously at the ceiling.

As always, the Saiyan prince had managed to work her up into a ball of frustration, anger, and something else.  
That nagging pull deep within her body telling her how badly she wanted him. She wanted to punch him, she wanted to scratch him, bite him...  
  
_fuck him._  
  
Bulma shook her head furiously; hating that her body's influence cast such temptations into her mind.

_This isn't how it's supposed to be._

Typically, her beauty and social position granted her compliance from most. Vegeta's apathy however, seemed impenetrable. He gave off a sense of alluring masculinity that was beginning to drive her crazy. 

_I should be the one with that sort of power. Not, that asshole._

A realization set in at how truly spoiled she was in that aspect. A mixture of intrigue and irritability taunted her consciousness, for never has she been subjected to such defiance. The only challenges she'd relished derived from engineering devices of her own design. This was a different sort of excitement; a puzzle of which she felt ill-equipped to solve. Perhaps that's how he's managed to pique her interest.

Her head lazily rolled to one side; glaring at her telephone for several long seconds.  
  
_I guess I could call Yamcha to come over._  
  
Although they'd just split, she knew he'd race over to hers if it meant sex.  
  
_Ugh. Forget it. Too easy._  
  
Sighing, she yielded to the source of her lust, conjuring images in her mind of Vegeta's immaculate body.

It was times like these that Bulma often wondered if he had ever been with a woman; intimately. Her fingers found their way downward, sliding underneath the waistband to stroke her delicate flesh; imagining what it might be like be ravaged by the surly prince.  
_____________________________________________

The next morning, Bulma decided she was sick of Vegeta having the upper hand. It was time she countered using a powerful tactic. Her sexuality.  
Pulling on a provocative bikini, she admired her figure in the mirror; eager to trip up the Saiyan once and for all.  
This time, she was adamant about taking control.  
  
_Knock 'em dead._

_____________________________________________

Vegeta was sitting on the coffee table, sliding on one of his white gloves when he sensed Bulma's presence.  
"Woman. I require sustenance." 

"So make something your damn SELF."

"A warrior has no place in the kitchen." He snarled, finally glancing up at Bulma.

"Hah! You know, you have a lot of nerve trying to get me to do _anything_ for you after the way _you_ talk to me."

" _Tch-_ " It was then that he noticed she was scantily clad. Her low cut tube top leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

"Are those pitiful rags truly what pass for earthling garments?" 

Bulma, turned her head away, smiling out of his sight; pleased that her strategy spurred such animosity.  
"Well it IS summer, Vegeta. We _earthlings_ don't have the luxury of your Saiyan genes."  
The scientist winked as she gathered her voluptuous hair into a thick ponytail.

"So turn on a fan!" He scowled, folding his arms away from her in an attempt to dismiss her flirtatiousness.

"What's wrong, Vegeta? I _do_ hope I'm not making you _uncomfortable_." Bulma taunted, delighted at the prospect of turning the tables of embarrassment. 

"Leave me alone!"

"Gosh! Who knew you were so intimidated by a little skin!"

"Don't be _stupid_. Nothing intimidates me."

"You don't like what I'm wearing?"

"I don't give a damn. Why don't you ask _Yamcha_?"

"Well, he and I are history, I'll have you know."

"Pity. I suppose he finally got sick of being with a worthless harlot."

His words stung her to her very core. "How _dare_ you!?" A blur of her hand quickly dashed as she struck his face. 

His cock throbbed at her sudden boldness and an urge to take her nearly overtook his resolve.  
Vegeta chuckled cruelly, satisfied his words wiped the smugness off her face. He now held the advantage.

"On second thought," He continued to prod, "-as pathetic as _he_ is, you should have suited each other just fine."

Furious, Bulma moved to strike him again, but this time he rose, catching her wrist mid-attempt. Vegeta leaned into her, unrelenting in his grip.  
"Tread carefully, foolish woman." He threatened darkly into her ear. "You don't know what game you're playing."

Releasing her roughly, he shuffled past, rapidly fleeing the household.

"Bastard." Bulma seethed.  
But slowly, her outraged expression transitioned into one of genuine confusion.

_Wait a sec... did he just have a boner?_

_____________________________________________

Vegeta fled to train deep within the Southwest forest to wreak havoc upon its terrain. A renewed supply of vigor brought his martial arts techniques to new heights. Attacking everything within sight, he dealt roundkicks that shattered boulders, uprooting trees, creating explosions into the earth's crust.  
  
It was hardly as effective as the gravity chamber, but it would have to do for the time being.  
  
Additionally, he was eager to get away from the distraction of which he was perpetually subjected at Capsule Corp.  
The fiesty daughter of Dr. Briefs served as a formidable sparring partner in quips, but having someone regard him so boldly and without respect was a foreign experience. The Saiyan prince prided himself in his preserverence, but recently found the strength of his will disintegrating. The earthling woman catching him off guard was the last straw. His thickness of his crotch twitched excitedly as he recollected the events just hours before. It was obscene how her breasts bounced, barely contained within their fabric prison. The silky columns of her porcelain legs just begging to be pried apart.  
Nevermind the fact that he felt her Ki increasing rapidly the evening prior. He knew she was alone in her bedroom. He _knew_ what she was doing, and such thoughts infuriated him.  
  
_Who does she think she is? Vulgar woman._  
  
Vegeta glanced down at a bulging arousal that seemed to mock him; the very affliction that prevented him from standing up that morning.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" Blinding rays charged from the palms of his hands, decimating the base of Mount Kapi. 

Under labored breathing, he cursed himself for allowing such a lowly creature to affect him this manner.  
There was a moment he considered releasing his own tension.  
  
A notion quickly dismissed.  
  
_You're the Prince of all Saiyans._ He admonished.  
  
_Discipline from trivial diversions should be effortless. Such weaklings are beneath you._  


But if he was honest with himself, he wasn't so certain how much more he could take.

_____________________________________________

Vegeta entered the house heaving from a long day of training. Chaotically, the Saiyan chugged an entire jug of water he knicked from the fridge.  
He had used every bit of energy he had to keep that blasted woman out of his head, yet it all seemed to be for naught the moment he heard her speak.

" _HEL-LO!_ The least you could do is take off your boots! Tracking mud into the house! Geez! What were you, born in a barn?"

"Stop your whining, brat."

"Brat!? _Brat?_ You of all people have the nerve to call ME a brat? Please! You're just an overgrown toddler! Consider yourself lucky we're even letting you stay here."

"Consider yourself lucky I don't destroy you where you stand, insufferable woman."

"Destroy _me_ , and you'll never make it off this planet alive, sweet _prince_." 

"Is that so?" He scowled, advancing toward her.

"Goku would end you in an instant!"

A split second was all it took to terrify Bulma as Vegeta slammed his fist into the wall beside her.  
"Don't you ever shut up?"

Bulma just knew any mentioning of his rival would trigger him. Irritation now eclipsing any residual intimidation, she decided to push the envelope.  
"You're _so_ charming. Is this always how you treat women, Vegeta?" The Saiyan's proximity filled her nose with the scent of salt and pine, his body radiating a heat that nearly had her breaking out in a sweat.

"Only useless ones, like you." Vegeta panted, his breath skating inches from her face.  
He clenched his jaw, barely containing a visceral flame burning hotter than his desire to best Kakarot.

"I somehow doubt you even _know_ any other women."

Vegeta growled through grinding teeth, daring her to utter another word.  
"Be silent before I shut you up myself."

Bulma flashed a cocky grin.  
"I'm right, aren't I? You know... I'll bet you've never even kissed - "

The rest of her sentence muffled - her words swallowed by his wanton lips. Her eyelids fell shut, surrendering to the moment she secretly craved for nights on end; the fantasy she fiercely touched herself to before she fell sleep. It was impossible to resist such intoxicating vigor. Their slick tongues desperately rolled in a sensuous battle for dominance. Sucking and nipping on each others pliant lips, Bulma tasted the vague sweetness of apples. His luscious onslaught migrated toward the corner of her jaw, then further down to that sensitive spot at crook of her neck as he ground his erection against her. Such untamed passion elicited moans from her as she ran her fingers through his ebony strands. When he returned to her mouth, their lip locking transitioned into excruciating need.  
  
Abruptly, Vegeta withdrew with eyes narrowed, gauging her reaction.

Trembling fingertips hovered over her mouth; lips still tingling violently from such savory assault. She stepped back half-dazed, heart racing and mind swimming with desire. Bulma could hardly believe he made the first move, and it occurred to her by the skill in his kiss that he knew exactly what he was doing. Her initial assumptions had been wrong after all. Vegeta _had_ known other women. Bulma's knees nearly buckled in her backward stumble toward her bedroom.

She floundered like a newborn fawn in a drunken stupor. The very sight prompted a devilish chuckle from Vegeta as the beast hunted its prey.

"What's _wrong_? I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable." He provoked, sporting a lecherously seductive smirk.

Any residual grudges fled from her at that moment, replaced with hunger of sinful perversions.  
The moment he crossed the threshold, Bulma kicked the door shut, brazenly pulling him in for another lip-lock.

Their mouths enticed each other into a frenzy; hands gripping desperately for purchase as they collapsed onto her bedroom floor, breaking only to lift his chest plate over his head.  
The breadth of his shaft feverishly slid against the junction of her thighs, her hips eagerly rising to greet such delicious friction.  
Hovering over her, Vegeta made work of unfastening his belt, as he rushed to remove the rest of his ensemble.  
Bulma hadn't anticipated such erotic prowess from her arrogant lover. Nor was she prepared for magnitude of his endowment as the bulk of his manhood bobbed out the confines of his suit.  
She sighed, delighted to finally savor the undressed warrior up close, reveling in his chiseled physique.  
The surface of his skin was hot to the touch.  
  
_Saiyan metabolism must be crazy fast..._ She deduced.  
  
The curious woman delicately slid her hands down his heaving torso, tracing the remnants of battle injuries left behind.

"Vegeta..."

"A true warrior always has scars." His piercing gaze only amplifying the ambiguity of such an assertion.

Savagely, he took hold of her garments, ripping the fabric apart until her breasts tumbled shamelessly from their restraints.  
The Saiyan prince looked positively ravenous at that moment; never before had Bulma felt so carnally desired. It was a high which she never wanted to come down.  
His greedy hands roughly fondled her ample bosom, suckling generous helpings of Bulma's rosy peaks. 

Her hands made their way down to the heft of his groin, milking the velvety skin of his phallus.  
It felt amazing to him, the strokes she gave, but was too much. He needed to be inside of her.  
Positioning the head of his cock at her core, Bulma suddenly clamped her thighs together.

"Can we at _least_ get off the floor?"

An annoyed growl bellowed from Vegeta, as he unceremoniously tossed Bulma onto the bed. She quickly gained her bearings, eager to continue their tryst. Legs spread, her fingers danced along the softness of her glistening slit; compensating for the interruption. Vegeta emitted strained groan, further aroused from such an obscene display. Mounting her, he replaced her digits with his own, dexterously manipulating the nub of her cleft until she was left a gasping mess. He then drenched his fingers in her essence, slicking his cock before pushing himself into her.

Mutual cries of pleasure escaped them during his initial submersion. Bulma encouragingly squeezed the firmness of his glutes, greedy for more. Obliging, he continued to drive his hardness further inside, setting a pounding rhythm of a man possessed.

He filled her completely, relentless in his burning desire for her. Vegeta jut his hips with such forceful impact, his hunger for friction seemed insatiable. Bulma cried out, the mixture of pleasure and pain beginning to tilt toward the latter.

"Vegeta, you're..." She panted - "...you're thrusting too hard!"

"Quiet woman, or I'll fuck you into a pulp." He rasped, nipping her ear. But he accomodated her request anyway, steadying himself into a more forgiving pace. Vegeta was reminded that Earthlings were fragile by comparison. It was imperative he remained in control of his strength for her sake. 

Bulma's cheeks flushed red, relishing the way the Saiyan hardbody corrupted her very soul.  
His rhythm was absolutely devastating, plunging in and out of her with a momentum that consistently kissed her g-spot. If he kept this up, she wasn't going to last long. Her nails descended down the expanse of his back, prompting Vegeta to suck air between clenched teeth. 

It was strange to the young woman how two people so vehemently at odds now couldn't get enough of each other. The way her body responded to him was suppressed for far too long. Bulma now speculated this was an inner conflict which he too must have struggled.

The entire time, their lively banter had merely been unintentional foreplay; lustful electricity charging between them after every offensive exchange. Bulma had resented Vegeta so much, she strategized revenge, and here she was, being defiled from the very person she slapped twice less than 10 hours prior. 

The room was filled with filthy sounds of hoarse grunting, soft moans and the headboard slamming against the wall. The situation suddenly concerned Bulma as the house was usually quiet. She wasn't sure whether her father and mother were out for the day.

"Vegeta... we need... we need to be quiet... I don't want my parents to..."

"Stop-" Vegeta raspsed, tilting her head back with a fist full of hair. "-talking..."

Bulma's mouth fell agape; his husky demand sending shivers down her spine as Vegeta continued his relentless pistoning deep into her core. This time, he didn't heed her request, her talking only spurred him to become louder. The Saiyan lusted at her bare throat, so exposed and wickedly beckoning to be lacerated. He staggered, clamping his teeth over the base of her neck, careful not to bury his canines too deeply into her flesh.

Countering the sting, he moved his hand between them, tantilizing her clit using the pad of his thumb.  
The sounds of her pleasure rose higher in pitch, signifying a building tension, pleading for release. It was sinfully exquisite; so much that it sent her surging into the beginnings of a powerful climax.  
Bulma hooked her arms under his shoulders, clinging to him as she surrendered into the throes of passion.  
Indulging in the grip of her pulsating cunt, Vegeta's thrusts began to falter as he approached his own orgasm. The Saiyan’s seed violently erupted from his rigid cock.  
In a blazing intensity of radiant delight, they reached absolution together, breaths falling into jagged rasps and huffs.  
The euphoria that followed were the likes of nothing either of them had ever experienced before.

They lay quietly for a time, hearts palpitating as they caught their breath. 

Seconds became minutes, minutes nearly reached an hour before Bulma felt the weight of her eyelids threatening slumber. 

Vegeta finally broke the silence.

"So you _are_ capable of shutting up, after all."

Bulma dismissed her natural instinct to snap back at the remark. Because frankly, she was in too much of a post-orgasmic bliss to give a damn.


End file.
